


my love is like a powder keg

by coloredink



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Face-Fucking, Hannibal is Hannibal, M/M, Porn, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6442396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloredink/pseuds/coloredink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Will it hurt?" Will asked.</p><p>"Do you want it to hurt?" Hannibal replied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my love is like a powder keg

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Моя любовь как пороховая бочка](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10397883) by [LarryD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarryD/pseuds/LarryD)



"Will it hurt?" Will asked.

"Do you want it to hurt?" Hannibal replied.

Will met and held Hannibal's eyes for a long minute. "No," he said at last, even as he wondered if Hannibal would respect that. Hannibal treated each request as that: a request, with no more or less weight than any other request, whether it be "Could you make me some French fries?" or "You need to stop provoking the police." And Hannibal had always liked seeing Will in distress.

Hannibal knelt between Will's legs. Will was naked; Hannibal was not. Will liked it that way. Well, he liked Hannibal naked, too; he liked the hair on Hannibal's chest, the definition of his muscles, his cock. But he liked messing up Hannibal's clothes more.

The blue nitrile gloves jogged a memory. Will lay back among the pillows and closed his eyes. A cold night, breath frosting in the air. The back of an ambulance. Hannibal with gloves on, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Will had liked that sight, for some reason. Had he known, then? Hannibal had looked so easy and sure of himself, for a man who supposedly hadn't practiced surgery in years. But Hannibal was always easy and sure of himself. Except when--

Something cold trickled down Will's cock. Not just down, but _in_. Will winced and opened his eyes. Hannibal squeezed the lube across the sound next, so that it fairly dripped. Good thing they'd laid down towels. The sound was small, just a slender rod maybe a couple of millimeters thick, and smooth all the way down. Not all of the ones in the kit were like that. Will had seen them.

Hannibal dropped the tube to the mattress and took Will's cock in his hand. He stroked it a few times, but Will doubted he'd get hard. He didn't feel anything except a hard rock of apprehension in his gut. Hannibal left off the stroking after a moment and placed the sound at the tip, right below the slit.

"Tell me if it hurts," Hannibal instructed, and pushed in.

Will breathed and tried to think of words to describe what he felt. Itching. Pressure. A little bit of a stretch. Down and down it went. Will stopped watching, and then he stopped being able to think of words. He clutched the sheets with both hands and closed his eyes at the ceiling.

"Open your eyes, Will," Hannibal said, after a minute.

Will shook his head, but he opened his eyes. He looked down his body, which felt very far away from the rest of him. Just the tip of the sound was showing, still held between Hannibal's thumb and forefinger. Will had to focus on breathing. In, out. In, out. As he watched, Hannibal began to draw the sound out again.

"Ah," Will said. He wanted to squirm, but he was also afraid to move. Sweat formed on his forehead. His skin felt hot and dry as paper, stretched thin over his bones, ready to tear or catch fire.

The rod was now most of the way out, and Hannibal began to push it back in again. He was no longer looking at Will but at his work.

Will took a deep, rattling breath. The lack of Hannibal's focus caused words to tumble out with the exhale. "You've just always wanted to get inside me, haven't you." Hannibal's gaze flickered up to Will, but his hands remained steady.

"I remembered, you know," Will went on. "You with the tube. The ear."

Hannibal paused. He cocked his head at Will and gave him a flat, affectless stare, like a lizard. It had been a long time since Will had seen that look on Hannibal's face. That made him shiver, and that in turn made the sensations in his groin twist and grow hotter. Hannibal broke eye contact and began to draw the rod out again. "You never told me," he said. "You had ample opportunity."

Will had had plans for a confrontation, once. He'd gone over the words in his mind as he'd driven to Baltimore with his gun on the passenger's seat. None of them had been about the tube and the ear. There'd been other, more important things he wanted to say. But he hadn't shot Hannibal. He'd smiled at Hannibal instead, across the table or as they worked together in the kitchen. Memories of violation and betrayal receded as Hannibal smiled back, and Will could no longer distinguish between their yearnings.

"It never came up," he said.

The rod went back down. The itching sensation intensified, along with something else. Will's calf twitched. His heartrate kicked up. "But it's come up now," Hannibal said.

"Can't imagine why," said Will. "You've always wanted to live inside me, haven't you? That's why you--did what you did. You didn't want me to forget you. Did you really intend to eat my brain?"

Hannibal didn't look up from what he was doing. "I believe I would have regretted it."

The rod was coming out again, and every nerve in Will's dick lit up like fire. Will tilted his head back and exhaled through his teeth. "You would only have tasted yourself," he rasped. "Inside my head. My thoughts in your voice. You were on my mind every morning when I woke up and every night when I went to sleep. You--ah God--"

Hannibal had started pumping the rod in and out, in regular, merciless motions. Will might have been able to get hard, if it hadn't been so intense, and if he hadn't had seven inches of surgical steel rammed down his dick. Hannibal was lying on top of his legs, so that Will could only arch his back and pant, clutching fistfuls of sheets.

"You're right, of course," Hannibal said, as if Will wasn't gasping and moaning underneath him. They could have been talking about their plans for after breakfast. "I wanted to penetrate you as much as you've penetrated me." Will couldn't see his face, but he heard the rueful, self-deprecating note. That flat, reptilian stare would be gone, replaced by something warm and also sad, like the way Hannibal had looked at Will on a rainy evening in Baltimore, years ago.

Will croaked out a rusty laugh. "Do you want me to eat you, then?"

Hannibal's hand jerked. Will whimpered. The rod slipped out the rest of the way; it seemed to go on forever. Will trembled at the sudden emptiness. Hannibal's hands cupped Will's face, and Will opened his eyes.

"Take off the gloves," Will rasped.

Hannibal stripped off the gloves. He touched Will's face again before kneeling with his legs on either side of Will's ribs, both hands braced on the headboard. Will put one hand over where he knew there was a bullet scar in Hannibal's side, stroked his thumb over the fabric, and opened his mouth for Hannibal's cock.

Hannibal wasn't hard, but Will didn't let that deter him. He worked Hannibal until his jaw hurt and Hannibal was good and hard, and then Hannibal began to thrust. Hannibal was a mouthful-- _really_ a mouthful--and he wasn't being gentle. Will didn't mind. He gagged and choked and let the snot and spit and tears run down and dampen his beard, because he knew Hannibal loved to see him that way. And when Hannibal came, Will held his breath and swallowed, of course. There was nothing else he could do. There never had been.

Afterward, Hannibal held Will close and pressed kisses all over Will's face, even into his mouth. Will gave a grunt of surprise, but he opened his mouth to it, letting Hannibal lick and investigate him inside. At last, Hannibal lay down and pillowed his head against Will's uninjured shoulder.

"What part of me would you eat?" Hannibal asked.

Will closed his eyes. His dick was sore, and exhaustion had replaced all his muscles with liquid. The inside of his mouth tasted bitter. "I don't know."

Hannibal made a humming sound. He did not seem distressed. "We'll discuss it tomorrow, perhaps."

"You're already inside me forever," Will mumbled. He heard Hannibal reply, but blessed sleep claimed him before he could answer.

\---end---

**Author's Note:**

> [coloredink.tumblr.com](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [sumiwrites.wordpress.com](https://sumiwrites.wordpress.com/) (if you wanna see the books I've written)


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